


Pleasure Program

by quaint_camera



Series: 31 Days of Porn Challenge 2017 [1]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: 31 Days of Porn Challenge 2017, Bisexuality, Blow Jobs, Canon Era, Come Shot, Dom/sub Undertones, Embarrassment, Established Relationship, Hand & Finger Kink, Healthy Relationships, Holodeck Sex, Holodecks/Holosuites, Humiliation, Kink Exploration, Love, M/M, Mind Meld, One Shot, Opposites Attract, Oral Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sexual Fantasy, Sexual Repression, Shyness, Technology, Vulcan Biology, Vulcan Kisses, Workplace Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-24
Updated: 2017-11-24
Packaged: 2019-02-06 10:18:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12815403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quaint_camera/pseuds/quaint_camera
Summary: Prompt 1: Pretending. What if Kirk and Spock used some new, experimental technology for a naughty little experiment? It'd be right up Spock's alley.





	Pleasure Program

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written fic in FOREVER. Hi, guys! Me and the bf have been watching TOS (well, I'm rewatching; he's never seen it) and then I stumbled upon the 31 Days of Porn prompts and this happened. Whoops.

Spock looked up instinctively at the sound of the turbolift doors swishing open. “Captain on the bridge,” he announced, and the heads of the crew turned. Kirk acknowledged each one with a glance or nod before stepping down to take his seat.

“Status, Mr. Spock,” he said when he was settled, and Spock could detect a note of curiosity.

“Lieutenant Uhura was due for a personal day, so I told her I would cover her.”

“That was generous,” Kirk remarked, throwing him a smile.

Spock raised an eyebrow, feigning puzzlement. “It was simply logical, Captain. There was a need for a communications officer, and as I am quite capable, I volunteered.”

“I see. Did you realize that would leave us short a science officer?”

“Indeed,” Spock said. “But I believe Lieutenant Sanders to be more than capable of carrying out his duties.” He glanced over at the young man filling his usual post, who smiled back nervously.

“A protege? Very good, Mr. Spock. What heading, Lieutenant?”

“Earth colony five, sir.” After a pause, he found the courage to continue. “The route will take us past a cluster of Pleasure Planets--well, a pleasure _system,_  really…” Sanders had the misfortune of being quite fair in color, so his blush was noticeable, ruddying the tips of his ears and cheeks. Spock had to admire the minutiae of the programming.

“A whole system,” Kirk repeated, thoughtfully. “A ripe temptation for any young man.” Doubtless the computer program was conjuring a small subroutine in Sanders’ head right now, perhaps the common crude fantasy of a green Orion slave woman, simpering and dancing clad in chains.

“With whole planets to get lost on,” Kirk mused, “it’s a wonder any work gets done around here.”

“Yes sir,” Sanders said, clearly bewildered to be having this conversation with his captain.

The programming was truly exquisite; Spock felt secondhand discomfort just watching the lieutenant’s reactions.

A light blinked insistently, returning his attention to his station. “One of the inhabitants appears to be hailing us now,” Spock said.

“From one of the pleasure planets?” Kirk asked.

“A moon, sir,” Sanders said.

Kirk pondered that. “Message?”

Spock cocked his head, listening intently to the silver headset tucked into his ear until one eyebrow flew up. “I am not sure it dignifies repeating here.”

“How do you mean?” Kirk pressed.

“It is not entirely… appropriate. She is now requesting visual contact.”

“She?” Kirk asked. “Onscreen.”

“Captain--”

“You heard me, Spock. Screen on!”

“Very well.” Calmly, Spock switched over to the tape he'd prepared, hoping it would please him. He’d had a surprising amount of trouble guessing what kind of woman Kirk would like, so he settled on buxom, with a sweet face, but wearing nothing too revealing. She was not to be the star of this show.

The look Kirk gave him was a mixture of pleasure and surprise when she came oncsreen. “This is Captain James T Kirk of the Enterprise,” he said. “With whom have I the pleasure of speaking?”

“I am Marlena.” Spock had selected the name at random, from a database of human names; one was just as good as another.

“Marlena.” Kirk tasted the name. “How can we help you?”

She smiled. “It is you who can help me. You know very well what I want, Captain. I’m a businesswoman. I invite you down for a free stay at my pleasure house, of which I am the owner and proprietor. If you enjoy yourself, your crew may come aboard, spend some of their shore leave here--your men would love you for that. There would be a fee, of course, but nothing unreasonable, nowhere near what the planets cost. I assure you it is very pleasant and private here.” Her gaze shifted behind him. “Oh, and do bring that Vulcan ashore with you… he’s a fine specimen. Full-blooded, I presume?”

Spock stood. “Half, miss.”

“Ah.”

“This is Spock, my second in command,” Kirk said, by way of introduction. “What could you possibly want with him?”

She giggled. “Plenty, Captain.”

“Surely you must know that Vulcans do not indulge sexual proclivities the way we do,” Kirk said, with a twinkle in his eye.

“Yes Captain, and that is precisely what makes them so coveted and sexually desired by other races. Especially humanoid ones, I’ve noticed. How else do you explain the ever-growing genre of interspecies porn featuring Vulcans?” She fluttered her eyelashes innocently and Spock could tell Kirk was taken aback. Tracing his browser history had been short work.

“Not Vulcans. Actors,” Spock supplied.

“Of course.” She inclined her head. “Hail me when you’ve decided, gentlemen.” With that, the screen faded to black and the bridge crew was left muttering amongst themselves. Spock returned to his seat.

“I do like a well-spoken woman,” Kirk mused. “That was it? She cut communications?”

“Not exactly, sir. The visuals are gone, but--”

“What?” Kirk searched his face, eyes burning.

“She is suggesting that we kiss,” Spock stated matter-of-factly, and he heard the bridge crew gasp. 

“The two of us?” Kirk gestured between them.

Spock nodded. "Yes, a ‘warm-up’ of sorts. Most curious.”

“Human or Vulcan style?”

“Both,” Spock decided on a whim.

Kirk’s glance fell to Spock’s hands, splayed on the controls. While Spock knew that they were not the erotic zone for humans that they were for Vulcans, it still excited him a little to know he was being admired. Kirk sauntered over and circled behind his chair. He closed his eyes briefly, wondering which would come first, his twin hearts pounding nervously.

The captain seated himself on top of the communications panel, breaking the illusion a bit. But with such a sight in front of him--the captain perched there improperly with his crotch at eye-level, nudging his legs apart, invading his personal space for everyone to see--Spock quickly cast accuracy aside.

He was not sure why the idea of Kirk coming onto him in a work setting featured so prominently and recurrently in his fantasies, and, true to past experiences, his mind raced, struggling to process pleasure and panic. Fight or flight, he realized. Basic physiognomy. Fear and arousal were closely linked in the brain. Everything could be explained by chemical reactions, which even he was not above…

The mood on the bridge was tense, with all the holographs averting their eyes. Sanders coughed uncomfortably. They were mere blips in Spock’s peripheral vision, the only sound being his own heartbeats in his ears and his focus one golden-boy Jim Kirk.

Kirk smiled, watching the ragged rise and fall of Spock’s slim chest as if pleased by his distress. He leaned forward and claimed his mouth, and Spock opened and allowed it. Kirk moaned with pleasure upon finding him so pliant, reaching over to caress his hand with two teasing fingertips.

“Ah, Jim,” he warned, drawing back. Kirk knew he liked double-kissing, as they called it privately, but he always found himself strangely ashamed to be indulging in it. Although he knew they were perfectly safe from the prying eyes of this “bridge crew,” their presence still made it difficult. Kirk’s eyes narrowed, indicating his dissent, but he complied, pulling Spock’s hand up and placing it squarely over his crotch instead.

Spock gladly curled his palm around the half-hardness there, moving down to cup and caress the balls, watching Kirk’s face the entire time. With dexterous fingers, he moved to unbutton and unzip but Kirk stopped him, grabbing both his hands.

“No. This is your fantasy.”

Spock could not be said to smile, but he came close, his brown eyes radiating warmth. His captain--always so good, so selfless that it made his cock twitch. “Precisely,” Spock countered, with a gleam in his eyes as pushed Kirk’s hands gently away and continued, freeing his erection. Girthy, straight, uncircumcised--so very different than his own equipment, and so very attractive. Begging to be sucked.

Spock slid out of his chair and knelt. Kirk hissed and threw his head back, gently thrusting his hips with Spock’s bobbing movements and glancing down at him every so often. Spock loved how uninhibited he was in this, how unashamed he was by their exchange. It was contagious, giddying. He endeavored to feel that free, to be that acceptant of his self and desires, and threw himself into his task with renewed ardor.

At the moment Kirk’s release seemed near, he pulled back and said, “Cum on me, Jim.”

Kirk’s brow furrowed, hazy confusion mingling with desire on his face. He was clearly struggling to control himself. “Spock…”

“Please,” he said earnestly. “Do it.”

Kirk obeyed, taking the hand he was using to steady himself against the controls and using it to jerk his own cock. After a few fast strokes, his mouth fell open and he uttered a helpless groan. Spock watched in wonderment, feeling warmth spatter his cheek and strike his shirt at random. It seemed to take forever and yet no time at all until his love was finished. Spock sat back on his heels, stunned wordless.

Recovering, Kirk straightened, gazing down at the mess he’d made. His seed marked those beautiful cheekbones, glistening in Spock's lap and streaking the shirt that was usually so spotless. Seeing Spock look anything less than pristine was a kink in and of it itself, and this was a beautiful sight indeed.

“Fuck, Spock, let me do you,” he pleaded, offering him a hand up. Spock grasped it with a sharp gasp, finding Kirk’s mind open and quite active. Images of their sex, replays almost, were swirling there, just under the surface, as if to be stored for later--how sensual.

Further, there were naked couples everywhere, some women on the outskirts, but mostly himself and Kirk in the center, copulating furiously in a variety of positions and locations, some fantastical, others functional… They flooded his mind, overlaid, all playing at once. He didn’t know where to look. For lack of a better word, he short-circuited, and when it was through he found himself panting, his face pressed to Kirk’s thigh. Most undignified.

Kirk chuckled, smiling down at him fondly. “That was a strong one. We’ll have to do this more often, if it makes you cum like that--untouched," he teased, zipping himself back up.

Spock cleared his throat, standing, very careful _not_ to touch Kirk’s hands this time. He was having trouble looking Kirk directly in the eye, but at least the bridge was empty now. He tugged at the bottom of his uniform shirt in an attempt to straighten himself up, though it was useless. “I am thoroughly soiled,” he said.

Kirk laughed. “That’s sex for you. Messy, wild, totally illogical, and very fun.”

"Agreed. Nevertheless, I require a shower."

Kirk smiled and gestured to the turbolift doors, which were really the holodeck exit. “After you, Mr. Spock.”


End file.
